


grow as we go

by closingdoors



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: AU, Christmas Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21618379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closingdoors/pseuds/closingdoors
Summary: "That was your car I saw outside? Broken down?""Good timing, eh?" The woman sighs, swapping her money for the glass Charity holds out. "I mean, who doesn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve?"A chance encounter brings Charity and Vanessa together for the holidays. AU.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 41
Kudos: 377





	1. Chapter 1

You won't be the only one  
I am unfinished, I've got so much left to learn  
I don't know how this river runs  
But I'd like the company through every twist and turn

**Grow As We Go, Ben Platt**

* * *

There’s an unfamiliar blue Beetle down the end of the road that makes her pause. The hood’s propped up and the owner’s disappeared somewhere in the engine, obscuring their face from Charity’s view — a woman, if she’s to guess by height, since her figure is hidden under layers of winter clothing.

The harsh wind picks up and bites at her cheeks and Charity crosses her arms over her torso, more concerned with getting back into warmth than the misfortunes of a stranger. She pushes into the pub and the breeze follows her in through the door. Some of the customers turn to throw her dark looks. Charity scowls at them, flexing her stiff fingers.

Chas looks up, throwing her hands in the air.

“Finally! She appears!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Charity retorts, rounding the bar, “had to give Noah his Christmas present, didn't I? Not all of us get the luxury of spending the day with our kids, you know.” 

Chas actually _tsks._

“No-one’s _making_ you work Christmas Day, Charity.” 

“Too late for that now, isn’t it? Now go on. Go off and get in the festive spirit with your sprog and Mr Blobby,” Charity says, giving her a too-bright grin when Chas narrows her eyes.

“Oi. Don’t diss my Paddy,” Chas warns, pointing a finger. She softens when Charity just shrugs at her. "You're welcome to join us in the afternoon, you know." 

Charity gives her a dismissive shake of her head. Spending Christmas Day sitting across from Paddy and Chas mooning over Eve while Aaron picks at his food and pretends he's not thinking about Robert is, quite possibly, the least attractive offer she's ever been handed. 

"Not really my scene, is it babe? Besides, one of us needs to prepare for Boxing Day. We'll make a killing." 

Chas just sighs. "Have a good Christmas, Charity."

Chas retreats away to the warmth of her family and Charity busies herself with restocking some of the optics, helping herself to a little vodka soda while she's at it. A Christmas treat to herself. What's the point in owning a pub if you don't get a drink on the house every now and then?

All in all, the shift isn't half as busy as she had expected it to be. That's the problem with shops staying open 'til late on Christmas Eve now, she guesses. Stealing all her customers so they can do some last-minute Christmas shopping instead of getting merry and splashing their cash in her pub. She busies herself with a crossword and ignores Marlon's obvious hints that he wants to go home early.

She solves the crossword all too easily, taking her time writing the last word 'butter-like colour', six letters: _Yellow._ Marlon watches over her shoulder and she finally relents, snapping at him that he can go if he stops watching her like she's his bloody mother.

It's not that she hates Christmas, though the time of year isn't her favourite all things considered; she just hates _this_ Christmas. Debbie's up in Scotland with the kids, Ross has Moses, and Noah had very quickly offered to spend Christmas at Wishing Well. He'd made some excuse about wanting to spend time with Samson, but she knows it's just so that he doesn't have to spend any one-on-one time with her. Not that she can blame him. She'd kind of dreaded the thought, too.

She's distracted from her thoughts when Liam bursts through the door, an arm wrapped around a limping blonde woman and Bernice following behind them both anxiously. Charity watches with mild amusement as he helps the woman bounce towards the nearest seat, her brows furrowed in concentration, ponytail swishing in the air behind her.

As soon as the blonde woman is seated, Liam slowly eases her trainer from her foot. Charity raises her eyebrows, waiting for Bernice's reaction, but she simply stands watching them. The blonde woman hisses when he slowly rotates and flexes her foot.

"A bad ankle sprain, I'd say," she hears him tell her, "of course, I can't be definite without an X-Ray, but following Ottawa ankle rules — "

She groans when he gently sets the foot on a stool in front of her to elevate it.

"Is it s'posed to hurt this badly?" 

"Unfortunately, sprains can sometimes be more painful than breaks. Not to worry. Regular pain relief will help; there are some helpful exercises online you can follow too." He looks around, catching Charity watching. "Ah, you wouldn't happen to have any painkillers back there, would you?"

"What the hell am I giving them out for? _You're_ the doctor," Charity protests.

He sighs. "I don't have anything on me and there aren't any pharmacies open on Christmas Eve."

Bernice leans across the bar, keeping her voice low so only Charity can hear.

"She slipped on ice right outside the front door, so if I were you, I'd help out to avoid a lawsuit," she warns, raising her eyebrows.

Charity is in and out of the back in a flash, ibuprofen and paracetamol in one hand, a glass of water in the other. The blonde woman has gathered a small crowd and Charity pushes through them, eager to stick her hand out and offer her the painkillers.

"Here," she says, somewhat awkwardly.

The woman offers her a bright smile. Charity takes a moment to really look at her. She's bundled up in various layers and the collar of her blouse has little cartoon owls on it, which Charity bites back a comment about. Her eyes are a bold blue, twinkling under the lights from the Christmas tree, her cheeks round and full as she smiles. She's relatively attractive. Pretty beautiful, actually. It's a little disarming seeing someone smile at her so effortlessly; very few do nowadays.

"Cheers," the woman replies, chasing the tablets down with water.

"Right. Well." Charity clasps her hands in front of her, wondering what the hell it is Chas would do in this situation. "If you need anything else, just let us know."

"There is something, actually. You could serve me? I'd like to get drinks for you both," she says, turning to Liam and Bernice. "Sorry, I don't even know your names — "

"I'm Liam. This is Bernice. Really, there's no need — "

Bernice smacks him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't be rude. It's a very kind offer." 

"I'm with Bernice. It _is_ a very kind offer. Christmas spirit and all that, int it?" She encourages, flashing teeth when she smiles at the pair. Not only is this woman apparently not going to sue her, but she's putting money in her till. She must be soft in the head. "Your usual, yeah?"

The woman's already fishing her purse from her bag, holding out a note to Charity. 

"If there's enough left over, then use it on a drink for you too," she adds, ignoring the way Bernice gawks, "I know I'd rather be anywhere other than work on Christmas Eve." 

Charity takes her money before the woman can think better of it. "Finally. Someone with a little bit of compassion around here."

"Says you," Bernice mutters. Charity opts to ignore the comment.

Liam and Bernice sit with the woman as they enjoy their drinks. Charity roots through her emergency pile of magazines for a new crossword to stop herself from either watching the clock or watching the kind-hearted blonde woman laugh with them across the table. She can't figure out a single clue and she doodles in the margins, losing track of the time as she does.

The customers stop buying any more drinks when it hits ten, most of them filtering out, leaving behind Jimmy and, much to her chagrin, Bear. Liam and Bernice bid their farewells to the woman and not long after Diane stops at her table, asking where she's from. Their conversation is drowned out by Jimmy's drunken rendition of White Christmas. She glares at him from the bar but he doesn't take a hint. 

When Diane leaves, and Jimmy finally stops wailing like a dying cat, Charity looks up from her crossword to find the blonde leaning against the bar.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" She asks, frowning. 

"Well, it didn't seem like you were going to offer me table service anytime soon." 

Charity winces. "Right. What can I get you?" 

The blonde wrinkles her nose, leaning on her elbows against bar, rustling the tinsel Chas has taped down to it.

"I'm gonna have to be really boring and order a lemonade, actually."

"Don't wanna start your Christmas with a hangover?" 

She snorts. "More like I don't wanna meet the mechanic half-cut, actually. _If_ he ever actually turns up. I called the company two bloody hours ago. So much for their sodding fast response." 

Charity stares at the fizzing bubbles as she fills the glass with lemonade.

"That was your car I saw outside? Broken down?" 

"Good timing, eh?" The woman sighs, swapping her money for the glass Charity holds out. "I mean, who doesn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve?"

"There are worse places to end up." 

"I s'pose." 

"You live far?"

"Only Hotten. Normally I'd just get a cab and come back for it another day but, you know, double fare prices and all that rubbish," the woman explains before immediately choking on her sip of lemonade. She splutters and holds out a hand. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Vanessa, by the way." 

Charity accepts the handshake. To her surprise, Vanessa has a fair grip.

"I'm Charity."

"Really?" 

"Yes, really," she snaps, grimacing when the woman wilts at her tone. "So what has you passing through our little corner of the world, Vanessa? Last minute Christmas shopping?"

"Nah. I sorted all that out ages ago. I like to be ready for Christmas by the end of November," Vanessa says, and Charity bites down on her lip so that she doesn't laugh. Because of _course_ this woman who dresses like a schoolteacher is ready for Christmas a month in advance. "I always visit my mum on Christmas Eve. This just happens to be part of my route back home."

"Get the parents out of the way on Christmas Eve? Smart. Keeps 'em out of the way to celebrate come Christmas morning," Charity adds with a wink.

A delightful shade of pink spreads across Vanessa's cheeks.

"Oh, that's not — I don't — "

Charity fiddles with one of the beer mats.

"No fella, then?"

Before Vanessa can reply, Jimmy and Bear begin drunkenly singing All I Want For Christmas Is You. Charity turns her eyes up towards the ceiling as Vanessa begins giggling. It's a pretty sound among the caterwauling. 

Charity drops the beer mat back into its place and rounds the bar, heading over to the seats where Jimmy and Bear have apparently decided to become best mates. Bear's thrown his arm around Jimmy's shoulders, holding his beer out with his other hand as they sway, the liquid sloshing over the edges and onto the floor of the pub. They don't stop when she stands in front of them, arms crossed over her chest.

"Right, either buy another round or sling your hook," she instructs sharply.

"C'mon, Charity, we're Christmas carollers," Jimmy argues, a stupid grin on his face.

She raises her eyebrows. "I'm sure Nicola'll be pleased when you get home in this state. Thought you two were coming here for your dinner tomorrow?"

As if the idea has just occurred to him, Jimmy's eyes widen. He scrambles for his phone to look at the time and winces when he sees it's eleven.

"She's gonna kill me." 

Charity shrugs. "Let her know she won't be getting your meal deposit back even if she does resort to murder."

With a strange, drunken attempt at a handshake with Bear, Jimmy grabs his coat and bolts straight out of the door. Charity watches Bear expectantly, but he looks past her to Vanessa, who's still leaning against the bar. Charity looks back over her shoulder and sees she's slowly rotating her bad ankle, jaw clenched.

"How about I buy you a drink?" Bear offers Vanessa.

Charity watches Vanessa freeze. 

"Uh, you're alright, ta. I've actually already got one," Vanessa answers, tipping her lemonade towards him.

"Go on. It's Christmas," he insists, apparently missing the way Vanessa grimaces.

"You heard the lady," Charity says, stepping to the side so that she blocks Bear's view of Vanessa. "I think it's time you went as well, don't you?"

Bear drains the last of his pint, watching her over the rim. She raises her eyebrows in challenge and he slams the empty glass onto the table before he stands, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Merry bloody Christmas," he sulks, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.

Charity grits her teeth and rolls her eyes, swiping his and Jimmy's empty glasses and carrying them back over to the bar. Vanessa looks as though she's suppressing her laughter.

"What a charming man," she comments, bright eyes flashing with mirth.

"I could set you up, if you'd like." 

Vanessa clicks her tongue, but reaches out to rest her hand on Charity's forearm, squeezing gently. 

"Thank you, by the way," Vanessa says softly.

Charity tries to look at anything but Vanessa's hand. She can feel her warmth even through her blazer. She swallows roughly and shrugs the contact off in one smooth move, heading towards the doors and pointing to the locks. 

"Look, this place is supposed to stay open til midnight, but I don't think anyone else is gonna — "

"Yeah. Don't worry, I get it. I've overstayed my welcome," Vanessa interrupts, pulling her bag onto her shoulder and zipping up her coat. "I'll wait outside."

"What? Don't be daft, you'll catch your death. You can wait in here. I was just gonna warn you I'm gonna lock the doors for now."

"Oh." Vanessa stares at her, and really, who gave her the right to have such big and beautiful eyes? "That's... really thoughtful of you, actually."

"Well it'd put my customers right off if they turned up tomorrow morning and found your frozen carcass on the front step. It _would_ give our Marlon more meat to work with if we run out of turkey, though," Charity adds, pretending to mull it over.

Vanessa laughs. "Give over."

Charity reaches up and flips the bolts of the front door. Vanessa settles in one of the booths, resting her swollen ankle on the seat with her, watching as Charity goes around collecting all the dirty glasses and placing them on the bar.

"Just gotta clear all this lot up," Charity explains. "Holler if you need me." 

Vanessa nods. "I will."

* * *

Charity carries the glasses through to the kitchen, shoving them all into the industrial dishwasher out of sheer laziness more than anything, even if she knows Marlon and Victoria will moan at her for it when they arrive tomorrow morning. 

Upstairs, she hears Eve begin to cry. Automatically, her feet carry her towards the stairs, but soon enough she hears the sound of Paddy's footsteps as he walks up and down the landing with his daughter, singing lullabies off-key. Charity can't help the way her heart aches as she listens to them. She never got that moment with any of her kids. Mostly her own fault. She knows that. 

It still hurts all the same.

Charity brushes her tears away and goes about making sure everything's set up for tomorrow. They're only expecting ten customers, but she knows this has to be perfect. It's Christmas dinner. She can't fob them off with her usual excuses if something goes wrong and, since she's relying considerably on Marlon, things probably will. 

Somehow, she only manages to waste fifteen minutes double checking paper work, stock, and some errant lint on her blazer. Irritated, she makes her way into the back room, flicking the kettle on. Her lower lip definitely _doesn't_ wobble when she sees Paddy and Chas have set out a little stocking for Grace as well as Eve. 

She makes two mugs of tea, steeling herself before she walks back out there. Vanessa's probably already gone, anyway. She's been, what, twenty minutes now? That's plenty of time. The mechanic's probably already here and fixed her car up and she's driven off without goodbye. Not like Charity cares, anyway. She hardly even knows the woman; she just knows she's kind. It's something Charity isn't used to and she doesn't know how to act.

When she walks back into the pub, Vanessa's still sitting in the booth. She's shed her coat and scarf, scrolling through her phone and frowning at something she's reading. 

"No luck yet then?" 

"Beginning to think I'll have to walk home. It would've been quicker at this rate," she adds, rolling her eyes. Charity leans against the bar, unsure of where to stand, as Vanessa locks her phone and glances over at her. "Was that a baby I heard earlier?"

"Eve. She's only a couple months old," Charity explains.

Vanessa suddenly finds the table interesting, her fingers following the whorls of the wood.

"That must be hard. Running a pub while looking after a newborn." 

"She's not mine," Charity tells her, a little amused when a smile tugs at the edge of Vanessa's lips. She waits until Vanessa finally looks back over at her to continue. "My cousin, Chas, she co-owns the place."

"No kids of your own, then?" 

"Yeah, actually. A few. They're not here for Christmas though." 

Vanessa's brow pinches. "That must be hard for you."

Charity feels her chest tighten. There are too many overlapping feelings bundled in there — missing Debbie and Moses, anxious over Noah, and grief for her baby boy who would've been a grown man by now. It's easier to ignore the hurt than feel it, so she just shakes her head, approaching Vanessa and setting the mug of tea she'd made in front of her.

"It is what it is. Don't tell me there's a little kiddie waiting for you at home while you're stranded here."

Vanessa's hands curl around the mug slowly. She stares up at Charity with those ridiculous eyes again and she can't resist, she settles in the booth opposite Vanessa. 

It must be the holiday season, she reckons, making her all calm and kindhearted. Any other day, she probably would've slung Vanessa out with the rest of the customers come closing hours. She's sure of it.

"No. No kids. Not even a pet, ironically enough."

"Why's that ironic?"

"I'm a vet," Vanessa tells her proudly. 

Charity hides her smile behind her sip of tea. Yeah, that makes sense.

"Not another bloody vet. Already got one of them upstairs," she says with an eye roll. She only realises what it sounds like when Vanessa pulls a face. "I don't mean like that. Chas's bloke, Paddy, he's a vet." 

"Paddy... he's never Paddy Kirk, is he?" 

"You know him?" Charity asks, narrowing her eyes.

"I was best mates with Rhona all through university. We lost touch a little while ago, you know how it is, but last time I checked in with her she was happily married to him. Guess that shows how long it's been since we spoke," Vanessa says with a tinge of sadness through her tone.

"Well, you know, Rhona only lives across the road."

Vanessa chokes on her sip of tea. "She lives _here?_ " 

"Yeah. Works at the vets with Paddy. Obviously," Charity adds. 

"I had no idea I was so close to her all this time. I'll have to give her a visit," Vanessa decides, eyes already flicking to the windows.

Something twists uncomfortably low in her stomach. Charity stares down at her half-empty mug. 

"Well, don't let me stop you." 

"Nah," Vanessa says softly. Charity fights to keep her face neutral when she looks back up at her. Vanessa's smiling at her, head leaning to the side just a little. "Maybe another time. Don't want to disturb her on Christmas, do I?" 

"No problem disturbing me, then?" Charity snarks, but her heart isn't in it.

"You offered. _And_ made me a brew. Thank you, by the way," Vanessa adds before she takes a sip.

"No problem," Charity replies, her voice too soft and low, but she can't quite bring herself to regret it.

They drink the rest of their tea in silence. It's not uncomfortable, which is strange — she's only just met the woman. Vanessa's hardly the type she'd usually spend time with either. Not that she really knows what it's like to have a friend. Chas is the closest thing she has to one, and even then they're related. Dingle Code means she and Chas have to stick by each other no matter what. 

Once their mugs are empty, Charity scoops them up and dumps them in the sink in the back room. She takes a moment to calm her fluttering heart. It's unfamiliar, all this, this easy way of talking to someone. It's probably just the season, making her sentimental. All that warmth in her stomach must be from the tea. 

When she makes her way back into the pub, Vanessa's on the phone. Judging by the things she's saying and the way Vanessa dramatically crosses her eyes and draws a finger across her throat, she figures it must be her insurance company. Charity goes around flicking all the main lights off so that people outside will know they're closed, until they're just left with the lights behind the bar and the twinkling ones from the Christmas tree. It feels warmer, like this. And all of it makes Vanessa's eyes pop with a little bit more blue. Not that she cares or anything.

Vanessa sighs when she ends her phone call. Charity raises her eyebrows.

"What's the verdict?" 

"Twenty minutes, they say. That's what they said _last_ time I called them, three hours ago. Apparently there's an app I can track him with though, so I'm gonna try and figure that out," she says, thumbing through her phone.

Charity hovers near the bar. "You want another drink?"

Vanessa shakes her head. "I'm okay. Thanks." 

Charity potters about behind the bar, pretending to organise things. Usually she tries as hard as she can to do as little work as possible, but here she is, triple checking everything and pretending not to feel Vanessa's eyes on her. One of the glasses almost slips from her hand when she looks up after a few minutes and catches the woman watching her.

She recovers herself smoothly, Vanessa probably wouldn't have even noticed, and places the glass back in its rightful home. She pours herself a lemonade just for something to do with her hands.

"He really is only ten minutes away," Vanessa says, holding up her phone. "So I'll be out of your hair soon enough. You can go on and enjoy your Christmas." 

Charity shrugs, running her fingers along the cool condensation of the glass.

"Not really doing much. Working here, so..." 

"You're working? On Christmas?" 

Charity can't help but smile at Vanessa's incredulous tone. 

"Yeah, well, gets me that extra bit of money. Won't be the whole day, anyway, they'll just come here for their tea and I'm sure they'll be on their merry way by three. Then I'll enjoy a bit of fizz by myself in front of the telly and watch _Titanic_."

Vanessa wrinkles her nose. "That's a rubbish movie to watch on Christmas." 

Charity raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. I'm pretty fond of the car scene no matter the time of year."

She watches as Vanessa struggles to hide a smile. She looks away, back at the screen of her phone.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'll be on my own this Christmas too. But I'll be watching _actual_ Christmas movies."

"Really?" Charity asks, leaning on the bar and letting her voice drop a couple octaves. "You're telling me a woman as pretty as you can't find somebody to snuggle up with for the holidays?" 

Vanessa's cheeks flush a rosy pink. Charity bites down on her lip, enjoying the way Vanessa still won't look at her. 

"Apparently not. Anyway, I best be off. He's only ten minutes away now. It's gonna take me an eternity to walk back to the car with this bloody thing," Vanessa says, motioning to her swollen ankle without meeting Charity's eyes. 

"If you insist," Charity says, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

Vanessa pulls her coat and scarf back on with clumsy hands. She watches as the woman shuffles to the end of the booth and begins a slow — and judging by the way she grits her teeth — painful attempt at slipping her trainer back on. She manages it eventually, tucking her laces inside the shoe instead of doing them up, and clutches the back of the booth as she struggles to stand.

She gives Charity a pained smile just as her blush begins to fade.

"Thanks for having me. You didn't have to do that." 

"Yeah. It's whatever," Charity replies. "Gotta try and get on Santa's good list somehow, don't I?"

Vanessa shoots her a look, and Charity shifts from foot to foot, feeling as though Vanessa's looking _at_ her instead of straight through her. It's been a long time since anyone looked at her like that. 

"Charity," Vanessa says quietly, and it's all she says.

She sets the lemonade on the side, holding one finger up.

"Wait there. I'll get my coat and help you out. You'll be here all bloody day otherwise."

Vanessa's waiting patiently for her once she comes back through from the back room. She's managed to shuffle over near the door, leaning against the bar for support. Charity reaches up and unlocks the bolts before she ropes Vanessa's arm around her shoulders, curling her own around her waist. Vanessa's body is warm against her own compared to the cold wind as they step outside.

They hobble down to Vanessa's Beetle, Charity mindful of the patches of ice that have formed and — she looks up with surprise just as Vanessa gasps.

Snow.

Vanessa lets go of her to lean against the car, looking up at the sky grinning. The flakes fall slowly, twisting in their own pattern in the air, melting by the time they hit the ground. Some of them settle in Vanessa's hair.

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Vanessa exclaims brightly.

Charity can't look anywhere else but her. 

"Yes, it is," Charity agrees quietly.

Vanessa's smile fades when she finds Charity watches her. 

Charity's heart jumps into her throat. She can feel her own pulse thrumming wildly. For a moment, she thinks Vanessa's going to kiss her; the way she looks at her is so soft and beautiful that Charity wishes she would.

But then the van drives up, headlights blinding her eyes, and Charity winces and throws a hand up to protect her eyes. She begins backing away as the van parks up in front of Vanessa's car. 

"Hope you get home safe," she says.

"Have a good Christmas, Charity." 

The slam of the car door breaks the spell. She blinks, stuffing her hands in her pockets and nodding at Vanessa. 

"Yeah. You too." 

There's something else she wants to say, but she can't think of what it is, so she gives her one last smile before Vanessa turns to meet the recovery man, who looks a little put out. She doesn't blame him. Not like she'd wanna be driving all over bloody Yorkshire on Christmas Eve, either. 

Once she reaches the door of The Woolpack, she glances over her shoulder. Vanessa's barely in her sightline anymore; she and the man have their backs to her now that the engine hood is propped up, Vanessa gesturing to something inside. Her hair is still collecting snowflakes.

She shakes her head and steps inside, finally switching all of the lights off and cashing up for the night. By the time she's done, and heading back home to Jacob's Fold, Vanessa's car is gone. She's the only one walking through the snow.


	2. Chapter 2

On the morning of Christmas Day, Charity wakes to a stiff neck and a dry mouth. She pads over from the sofa to the kitchen, making herself a brew and flinching when she sees the empty wine bottle on the counter, the sight making her stomach roll.

After dumping the bottle in the bin, she checks through the notifications on her phone. Empty except one picture from Debbie, showing Jack and Sarah opening their presents. Her chest aches and she types back a quick _Merry Christmas babe x,_ thinking about Noah and Moses opening their presents, all smiles without her. 

She knocks back a couple of painkillers for the thumping headache and scarfs down her brew. She's going to be late if she carries on worrying about things that can't be changed. 

The walk from her house to the pub is a lonely one. There's no-one outside; they're all tucked away in the warmth of their homes. She tries not to look through the windows, but she can't help it, it's like she's constantly drawn to the things that will hurt her. She sees all their grinning faces and their ridiculous Christmas jumpers and the families actually _enjoying_ their time together. And there she is, walking through the cold and hoping to earn a bit of cash, her kids all somewhere else and no-one thinking of her.

Chas is humming and swaying when she pushes in through the doors, Christmas songs playing faintly. She's holding baby Eve in her arms, who chooses the moment Charity steps behind the bar to sick up on the blanket covering Chas's shoulder. She can't help but wrinkle her nose. Maybe there are some parts of motherhood she's grateful she'd missed.

"You want to tell me why it looks like it rained salt outside?" 

"Er, excuse me, I was doing a good deed, actually. Someone tripped out there last night, didn't they? Went and twisted their ankle. Thought I'd stop us from getting sued." 

Chas narrows her eyes, patting Eve on the back. "That's... clever."

"It's been known to happen," Charity replies with an exaggerated eye roll and a smirk. 

Paddy chooses that moment to walk through from the back. Or, at least, she _thinks_ it's Paddy. She can hardly see him for all the presents in his arms. He sets Eve's baby carrier on the bar and Chas begins settling her in.

"Alright?" He asks, withering a little under Charity's gaze.

"Just peachy," she retorts.

"Be nice," Chas warns, guiding Eve's arms through the straps. "It's Christmas. I'm sure even _you_ can summon up a little Christmas spirit. Make sure you don't scare off all our paying customers." 

"Oi, you're just as bad as me sometimes."

"Yes. _Sometimes,_ " Chas drawls, tucking a different blanket around Eve in the carrier. "Look, I know you said no yesterday, but when you're done here, you really _are_ welcome to come round to Aaron's."

Charity glances between them. Chas is too busy with the baby to pay attention to her. Paddy looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. She can only imagine how he'd actually react if she showed her face there, though it might be worth it just to see what he does. 

"I'll have to look through my diary, babe. Might be busy."

Chas finally finishes fussing over Eve and draws Charity into a hug that has her stiffening up. Her hands pat Chas's back awkwardly.

"Merry Christmas, Charity."

Chas steps back and Paddy glances between them before nervously stepping forward. Charity glares at him and holds up a finger.

"Don't even _think_ about it." 

"I wasn't!" He protests, pink in the face. "I was gonna get Eve." 

She still glares. Just for good measure. Chas laughs, taking some of the presents from Paddy's arms so that he can lift the baby carrier. Paddy keeps his eyes on the ground and practically jogs out of the pub in his haste to get away from her. Chas shakes her head as she follows after him, waving over her shoulder, and Charity's alone for the second time this Christmas.

Marlon arrives eventually, helping her rearrange the tables. He disappears through the back soon after and she can hear him singing along to the Christmas tunes that she already knows are going to drive her insane. Especially if he keeps singing. It's hardly like he can hold a tune. She grits her teeth and tries to focus on setting the tables until eventually his awful wailing fades into the background. She doesn't know what it is about Christmas that makes everyone think they're suddenly the next Michael Bublé.

By the time their customers are due to arrive, the pub looks like Father Christmas himself has thrown up inside of the place. Chas had done a good job before, but Charity has really outdone herself. She's thrown handfuls of snowflake confetti over the tables, hung mistletoe from practically every place it will hang - including right outside the toilets, just to give herself a laugh - and managed to stick a pair of antlers on Marlon's head. It's almost easy to forget how much it all hurts, and she's smiling when Nicola barrels into the pub with a hungover Jimmy trailing behind her.

But then it's hard, all over again, when she sees everyone sitting with their families, pulling crackers and laughing at the bad jokes inside, those paper hats on their heads. She aches for Noah, just wishes she could talk to him, but she doesn't know what she'd do if he didn't pick up the phone. It's different with Moses. She's already arranged a time to FaceTime him later, she's just got to wait for Ross to tell her when he's free. But Noah -

Charity's thought ends there, as she sets Jimmy's plate in front of him and watches him turn a vague shade of green, because when she turns around she finds herself face-to-face with Vanessa.

"Hiya," Vanessa chirps. She smiles and holds up a bottle of baileys. "Thought I'd give you a little thank you gift. You know, for letting me stay yesterday."

Charity tries to ignore the way her palms are sweating when she takes the bottle. She wonders if Vanessa can see how hard her pulse is thrumming in her throat. She pretends to look the Baileys over as if she's considering it.

"You realise you brought alcohol as a gift to a pub, babe?"

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "For _you,_ not the pub. That's different. Besides, all the shops are closed, and I didn't really have much else sitting at home to give you."

"Charming."

"No! I just meant - are you teasing me?" Vanessa asks, frowning when Charity laughs. Her laughter earns odd looks from some of the customers, too. 

"You're easy to wind up, babe. Cheers. I'll make good use of this later," she replies, rounding the bar until she's on the serving side. She doesn't miss the fact that Vanessa's eyes follow her the whole time. She sets the baileys on the side and leans against the bar. "Should I be flattered that you've decided to spend your Christmas bringing me a drink?"

Charity arches an eyebrow. Vanessa leans against the bar, her fingers almost brushing Charity's, rolling her eyes. 

"I'm spending Christmas at Rhona's, actually. She saw me last night and popped out to say hello. Next thing you know, it's like no time as passed at all, and I'm being invited round for my tea."

Charity tries to ignore the way disappointment settles like lead in her stomach. "So no lonely Christmas for you, then?" 

"Doesn't look like it," Vanessa replies. Her little finger brushes against one of Charity's knuckles. "You know, you could... you could join us. After your shift, I mean. Rhona's always really welcoming, and I hate the idea of someone being alone on Christmas - "

Charity barks a bitter laugh. "You should pitch that idea to Rhona. See what she thinks of it." 

"Maybe I will," Vanessa challenges, raising her chin and her little finger curling back with the others.

"I don't need your pity invite, babe. Some of us are fine on our own." 

"Clearly."

Charity scowls, standing up to her full height and crossing her arms over her chest. Vanessa mimics her, though she looks decidedly less intimidating considering the bobble hat on her head and the bright yellow scarf around her neck. That and the fact she's about two inches tall. 

"What's that s'posed to mean?" 

"I just thought I'd offer, that's all. Obviously you have better things to do," Vanessa says disdainfully, casting her eyes around the pub. She nods to the baileys. "Don't drink that all at once, yeah?"

There's a little part of her - okay, a big part of her - that feels guilty when Vanessa storms off. It's her gut instinct to fling a retort back at her, but she bites down on her lip and keeps the insult caged instead. Vanessa opens the door and looks back at her, eyebrows pinched together, before she shakes her head and walks through the door.

Charity serves herself a shot, glaring at Nicola when she approaches the bar all high and mighty. She charges her the price of a double for a single just to start an argument.

What does Vanessa even know about her, anyway? This is why she doesn't show her kind side that often; people get the wrong kind of impressions about you if you do. What, does she look like she sits around all day crying about things she can't change? About how lonely she is? No, she dusts herself off like any normal person and goes about her day, eager to reach the end of it for a glass of wine or two or the whole bottle, if she feels like it. 

She certainly doesn't need anybody's bloody pity. Charity scoffs, scuffing her boot against the floor, just imagining Rhona's reaction to Vanessa's invitation. Half of this village would chase her out of it with pitchforks and torches if they were given the chance, let alone open their door and invite her in for Christmas.

After taking everyone's empty plates and Marlon serving them their dessert, Charity hides in the back room, sitting on the edge of the sofa, her thumb hovering over Noah's name on her phone. One call won't harm either of them. Even if he doesn't pick up, she could just leave a voicemail. He might listen to that. Or maybe she should just text him? But that feels so detached, just a couple words through a screen... 

"Hi," Marlon practically sing-songs all bloody cheery from the doorway, smiling sardonically when she looks up at him. "Remember when _you_ were the one who said we should open on Christmas Day?"

"Oh, sod off, Marlon." 

"Well, I _am,_ since my shift is over, but I thought you should know - "

Charity rockets to her feet. "You can't leave me to deal with all of those lot on my own!" 

"I'm the chef. They've eaten," Marlon replies slowly. He removes the antlers from his head and tosses them to her. "Here. They might put a smile on your face." 

"Oh, if Chas wouldn't kill me for it, _I_ would kill you."

"There's that sparkling personality all those customers are looking for. Merry Christmas!" 

She throws the antlers after him. They rebound against the wall and land on the floor unceremoniously. 

Charity sighs, shoving her phone in her back pocket. It feels like it's burning as she heads back through to serving. 

Then she watches as Doug and Jimmy bump into each other at the toilet doors, the sprig of mistletoe dangling innocently above them. She cackles as they both go red in the face and hastily push past one another, Nicola jeering them from her table.

When they all begin to argue over how to split the bill, Charity remembers why it is being alone on Christmas is better than being involved in all the drama. No doubt over at Wishing Well someone's had too many, they're all singing along to Christmas songs - badly - or Noah's winding one of them up with his dry humour... 

She forces a grin when the first table leaves. They leave behind their paper crowns and the empty crackers. Jimmy waltzes out in a Santa hat, drunk again, behind a Nicola who's just rolling her eyes. By the time the second and the third and then the last tables are empty, Charity's sick to death of Christmas, of the whole bloody season of winter actually. It's never been kind to her. 

Actually, it's been _worse_ than that, and normally she can plaster on a smile and pretend there isn't a gaping hole inside of her for her dead baby boy, but there's no-one to pretend around this year. 

He'd be an adult now, just like Debbie. He might've had kids of his own, too, if he'd been given the chance.

Charity sweeps her arm across the table, letting the litter fall into the bin bag, before she carries it out back. It's only once the cold hits her cheeks that she realises she's crying. 

She wipes them away with the back of her hand and clears her throat, turning back to the door.

"Charity?" 

"We're closed," she gets out hoarsely, turning just in time to see Vanessa, approaching her slowly.

Now that she's had time to get all sentimental, she realises how beautiful Vanessa looks today. Her hair tumbles around her shoulders in curls, eyeshadow a deep red which only makes her eyes pop more, a pair of holly earrings peeking out through her blonde tendrils. She's watching Charity warily, fiddling with the end of her scarf, and Charity's chest flutters.

It's a been long time since she's felt that.

"But open to accept an apology, I hope?" 

Vanessa smiles tentatively and Charity's arms fall at her sides, her usual defences crumbling. She leans against the doorframe.

"You don't need to be sorry, babe." 

"Yes I do," Vanessa insists stubbornly. "I'm sorry." 

Charity laughs gently. "Alright. Well, you're forgiven. In the spirit of Christmas and all that." 

Vanessa comes closer and Charity finds herself holding her breath when Vanessa is within arm's reach.

"How was your Christmas?" Vanessa asks, her breath visible in the air between them.

"Rubbish," Charity replies, earning herself a laugh. "Looks like Rhona didn't bore you to death though."

"Rhona's not boring!" 

Charity wrinkles her nose. "Yeah she is, babe." 

"Well, _I_ had fun. It was good to spend time with her. Better than being on my own, I guess. And it got me thinking." 

"Thought I smell smoke."

"Shut up," Vanessa replies, swatting Charity's arm lightly, and Charity can't help but miss the contact once it's gone. "Well, I just thought about you, actually. Alone on Christmas. And this isn't pity, before you start, but I've just left Rhona's so she can celebrate properly with Leo and Graham and I - well, I don't want to be alone on Christmas. There's no point both of us being on our own. So maybe _we_ could spend it together?"

Her eyes shine bright under the white sky and Charity realises she's holding her breath. Vanessa's grin falls.

"Sorry. I'm overstepping, aren't I? I'll just - "

Vanessa turns, like she's about to leave, and Charity watches her own hand dart out to catch her. Charity takes a step back and pulls Vanessa inside with her.

* * *

"Were you really gonna watch Titanic on your own?" Vanessa asks from her perch at the bar, her glass of mulled wine dangling between her fingers as she watches Charity tidy up.

"Why? Wanna watch it together babe?" 

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "I'll spring for _Home Alone,_ how about that?" 

Charity approaches her side, lightly kicking the carrier bag sitting at Vanessa's feet. 

"S'that what you got in there?"

"No, actually, those are my Emergency Christmas With Local Landlady supplies." 

"Don't you mean devastatingly attractive local landlady?" 

Vanessa blushes, but she doesn't look away. "If you like." 

Charity leans against the bar, resting on her elbows, surveying Vanessa. She's a pleasant surprise. Charity still can't quite figure out what it is about Vanessa, other than the fact she's drop dead gorgeous, that makes smiling so easy. Or why the hell someone like Vanessa would want to spend Christmas with her, anyway.

Not that she's going to complain. It's nice, actually, having someone keeping her company once everyone's gone. It's unfamiliar but she welcomes it nonetheless, which she thinks might be a little selfish, but then again, when hasn't she been selfish?

"You're very prepared for someone who's acting like this is an off the cuff plan," Charity comments with a raised eyebrow.

"It is. But I had some spare from spending time at my mum's yesterday. Brought them along, you know, just in case."

"Do I get to see what delights are hidden inside?" 

"Not until you're done working, no. Maybe I could go set up, though? You must live through the back, right?" 

"Uh, actually, I don't." 

Vanessa takes a long sip of her wine. "I thought that's where landladies live. In their pubs. Or are you - you live with someone?"

"I do, actually," she replies, just for the reaction on Vanessa's face. She watches her eyes flicker with disappointment and her lips downturn at the edges. "My sons, when they're around. My daughter moved up to Scotland with her kids so we're staying in her house while she's gone. You know, gives my cousin, Chas, space. What with the baby and everything." 

"How old are your sons?" 

"I've got a teenager and a four year old. Debs is twenty... something," Charity replies, waving her hand in the air vaguely. She waits for judgement to pass across Vanessa's face, but it doesn't. "Somehow, out of the three of 'em, my youngest is the easiest."

"Well they're good at that age, aren't they? Haven't grown out of the unconditional love stage." 

"Thought you said you didn't have any kids?" 

"I don't. Spent a lot of time around people that do, though. I guess I'm a bit more jealous than I'd like to admit. I think I would've liked to be a mum but, well, it never happened."

"Well yeah babe, unless you're able to perform some nature-defying miracle, I can't say I'm surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Charity rolls her eyes. "You're gay, yeah?" 

Vanessa sits up straighter in her seat, letting her wine glass rest on the bar. Her fingers play with the base of it nervously. 

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, the wardrobe's a bit of a clue," Charity replies lightly, tugging on the collar of Vanessa's blouse over the neckline of her maroon jumper. Vanessa bats her hand away. "Hey, you'll get no judgement from me. Might have some experience with the ladies tucked under my belt, too."

"Yeah?" Vanessa asks, voice a little too tight to be as nonchalant as she thinks she is.

"Yeah, babe." 

Vanessa clears her throat. "So, if you don't live through the back, where _am_ I supposed to set out my Emergency Supplies?"

"What, my pub isn't good enough for you?"

"Oh, come on, you don't actually want to spend Christmas here, do you? I mean, it's nice, don't get me wrong," she adds hastily when Charity's eyes flash. She holds up her palms. "Hardly somewhere you can settle down with some eggnog to watch _Elf,_ is it?" 

Charity can't remember the last time she actually drank eggnog, or if she ever has at all, but she doesn't think she knows how to say _no_ to Vanessa. She can already picture them sitting side-by-side on the sofa while she pretends to enjoy some daft festive movie. 

The thought of bringing Vanessa to her home is strangely intimate. It's one thing to sit and laugh with her over the bar, it's another thing entirely to invite her into her house. The only time she normally takes someone home is if she's pulled, and it's been a long time since she focused on any of that nonsense. Not that she'd be opposed to pulling Vanessa, she'd be pretty delighted actually, but that's not _why_ they'd go to Jacob's Fold in the first place.

"Too much?" Vanessa asks, as if she's reading her mind. 

"No," Charity decides eventually, smiling when Vanessa smiles. "It's not too much." 

* * *

Once she's done tidying away and Vanessa's finished her wine, she closes up the pub. Vanessa waits for her as she locks the doors, the afternoon wind catching up in her hair and making her curls wave. 

They walk in silence to Jacob's Fold, Vanessa's carrier bag brushing Charity's leg every now and then. It's not yet dark enough for the Christmas lights in peoples' windows to shine bright yet, but she watches Vanessa studying them delightedly anyway, the gold and pink sky of the sunset painting her warm and bright at the same time. Her breath gets caught in her throat when Vanessa looks over at her.

"S'not much," Charity says as they step inside, hanging her coat up. She nudges Noah's muddy trainers with her foot. "Boys. They leave a mess everywhere. Lost count of how many times I've told Noah to put those away."

Vanessa's grinning as she hands her coat and scarf up. "I don't mind. It's lived-in. I like it." 

"Yeah, that's one word for it."

The Christmas decoration inside is pitiful, she doesn't even bother trying to excuse that. She'd shoved a tree into the corner just to leave some presents under, give Moses a reason to be excited for come home, and done a half-hearted attempt at decorating it. She'd tried getting Noah involved, figuring it'd be something they could do together, but he had brushed her off with one of his usual excuses, as if he was annoyed that she'd asked. He's been like that ever since Joe left and he'd been stuck with her again. So angry at the slightest of provocation.

Charity busies herself pouring two glasses of wine as Vanessa sets the carrier bag on the sofa. When she looks up, Vanessa's pulling out _tinsel._

"What's all this, babe?" 

"No offence, but this has to be the least Christmassy living room I've ever seen. And I've got _no_ decorations up at home."

"You know saying no offence before insulting my decorations doesn't stop me from being offended?" 

"Just saying it as I see it," Vanessa replies with a cheeky grin, accepting the glass of wine Charity takes from her. "We can put some up. It won't take long."

"Aw, what? I thought we were just gonna get plastered and watch a crap movie." 

"We can do that after. Besides, it'll be good for your boys, right?"

Charity's jaw sets. "Think you know what's best for my kids, do you?" 

"No. No, I just meant..." 

Charity flops down onto the sofa, glaring. Vanessa melts under her gaze, the tinsel in her hands going slack. 

It's not like Charity's surprised. She's had plenty of people telling her what's best for her children, and it's not like they're all _wrong,_ because most of the time she doesn't have a bloody clue what she's doing. It doesn't mean she has to like that complete strangers, childless ones at that, think they know better.

"Sorry. It was stupid idea," Vanessa murmurs, already letting the tinsel fall back into the carrier bag.

She looks so bloody dejected that Charity, for once, feels a hot sweep of guilt riot through her. Charity sighs, setting her wine down and holding out a hand. 

"Oh, fine. Give me some bloody tinsel then." 

Vanessa brightens. "Yeah?" 

"Go on. Before I change my mind." 

Before she knows it, Charity has a holly wreath on her front door, some twinkling lights in her windows, and tinsel attached to the beams of Jacob's Fold. Neither she or Vanessa are tall enough to reach the latter, so she finds herself holding the ladder steady for Vanessa as she climbs it. It's not half a bad view, either.

Vanessa wobbles when she climbs back down, stumbling over the last step, and Charity has to help steady her with a hand on her hip. 

"Smooth, babe." 

"It's this bloody ankle. It's still weak," Vanessa says, glaring down at her ankle like she can scare it into submission.

"No better, then?"

"Loads better, especially with all the painkillers and alcohol. It just caught me off guard, that's all." 

"I'll take that as a compliment then," Charity replies with a wink.

Charity puts the ladder away. When she walks back downstairs, she hardly recognises the place. Vanessa's switched all the lights off except for the standing lamp and the fairy lights, bathing the place in a warm honey glow. Even the Christmas tree shines thanks to the new angel Vanessa has placed upon it. 

It looks like a proper home, she realises. Not just a place that she lives in. A place where she only comes if she needs to sleep or look after Moses or check Noah has definitely gotten up for school on time. With Vanessa sitting on the sofa, a stupid Santa hat on her head and a daft grin on her face, she almost believes it's the kind of place her kids would willingly want to live in.

"Hope you don't mind," Vanessa says, holding up a tumbler to Charity when she joins her on the sofa. "I brought eggnog. Mixed it with some of your rum."

Charity takes a careful sip. Though the eggnog is chilled, the drink warms her throat. 

"Yeah. That's alright, babe." 

" _Alright?_ I'll have you know my eggnog skills are sought after at every work Christmas do. It's more than just alright."

"Anyone ever told you you're a bit of a hothead?" Charity snarks lightly, grinning when Vanessa balks.

"Says you!"

Charity tips her tumbler towards Vanessa.

"To being hotheads." 

Vanessa rolls her eyes, clinking her glass against Charity's.

"To new friends," she adds. 

She's set up a half decent spread, too, considering she's just working with what she's got. Set some mince pies out on a plate on the coffee table, accompanied by some crackers, and - Charity notes with a smile - sprinkled over it all is a handful of snowflake confetti Charity had used at the pub. She must've pocketed some while Charity was distracted cleaning up. It's the first time she thinks she's ever been happy someone's stolen from her.

The TV's already loaded up with _Home Alone._ The menu screen music plays quietly as Charity pulls her feet up underneath her, trying not to give away just how warm her chest feels sitting here with a woman who was a complete stranger just yesterday. 

"Okay?" Vanessa asks.

"It'll do."

Vanessa rolls her eyes and presses play. Charity lets herself get sucked into the movie, the rest of the world quiet and peaceful outside.

* * *

Halfway through the movie, when she's remembering that this is one of Noah's favourite Christmas movies, Vanessa's body shifts towards her. It's a subtle movement, one that might've been missed by anyone else, but Charity finds herself hyperaware of the distance between them immediately.

It'd be so easy, she thinks, to wrap her arm around Vanessa's shoulder and pull her closer. She'd be a welcome warmth in the cold season. 

Vanessa's hand rests on her thigh and Charity realises it _is_ easy, she's just out of practice, and settles her arm over Vanessa's shoulder. She feels Vanessa let out a deep breath, but before she can pull her closer, Charity's phone buzzes loudly in her jean pocket and startles them both apart from each other.

"It's my son. My little'un. His dad's FaceTiming me. I said I'd - "

Vanessa smiles. "It's okay. Take the call. I have to go to the loo, anyway."

Charity answers as Vanessa heads up the stairs, Moses's little face filling up her screen, Ross right behind him. Moses beams at her, a paper hat sitting wonky on top of his head, the sight making her chest ache.

"Hi! This is daddy's phone, but he said I could use it." 

"Five minutes," Ross warns over his shoulder. "We're just taking a break before dessert."

Charity glares at him and Ross rolls his eyes, walking off camera. She can distantly hear the sound of cutlery and Rebecca's voice. She chooses not to focus on it, deciding to remember just how happy her son is to see her instead.

"Merry Christmas, Moz," she says, her thumb stroking the side of her phone. 

"Santa came! Look mummy," he says, holding the phone at a bad angle as he lists through all the presents he's been given. 

Charity's feet carry her over to the Christmas tree. She stands in front of it, giving Moses a view of the new and improved decorations, and the wad of presents sitting underneath and waiting for him. He must notice, because he cuts off his own tirade abruptly and the camera turns back around to him, his little mouth open like an _O._

"Santa was there too?" He asks with wonder.

"One of Santa's helpers came round especially to help me. Said it was only fair, since you get two Christmases," she tells him, unable to keep the smile out of her voice. 

"Was it Rudolph? Did you give him carrots and milk?" 

"No, it wasn't Rudolph. It was one of Santa's special elves." 

She snickers at the thought of what Vanessa would say to that. Moses is practically vibrating with excitement, though. He throws his whole body back against the floor, almost bashing his head in the process.

"We're gonna have Christmas pudding and then we're gonna watch movies and then tomorrow I get Christmas _again_."

"I know, bubba. Are you excited?"

Moses sighs dramatically. "Christmas is the best."

"It is," she agrees quietly.

Moses looks away, and Charity hears the sound of Ross's voice. She feels her shoulders drop. Five minutes is hardly enough time with her son. It's not like she can blame Ross, though. Moses is here more often than he is there, through some sort of miracle, she's still not entirely sure how she'd managed to wrangle that one. 

"I'm gonna have pudding now," Moses tells her, holding the phone too close to his face. "I love you mummy." 

"I love you too," she replies softly, tears stinging her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Moses." 

"Merry Christmas!"

The call is shut off by Ross. Charity sighs, blinking away her tears and shoving her phone in her back pocket.

Vanessa has made it back down the stairs, pretending as though she hasn't been listening. She's studying the photos on the wall instead. They're mostly of Charity, Noah, and Moses, but there are some of her with Debbie and the grandkids too. The ache in her chest only grows when she realises how young Noah is in most of the photos. She doesn't remember the last time they took one together.

Charity joins Vanessa's side. She can feel the woman's gaze practically burning through her as she looks at the photos now.

"Does his dad live far away?"

"Liverpool," Charity replies, fiddling with the hem of her blazer. "I had him last year, so..." 

"That still doesn't make it easy." 

Charity laughs. "It's not like he's missing out on much. You saw the state of the place, babe. Hardly a domestic goddess, am I? Place looked like something out of a Dickens novel before you showed up."

"That's not true. It's hard to muster up the energy when you're on your own. Trust me, I know the feeling."

"Noah didn't even want to stick around for Christmas with me. And once Moses is old enough, I'm sure he'll be picking his dad over me every Christmas. No-one ever picks me, babe." 

"Charity," Vanessa sighs, "look up."

She does. Hanging there, innocently, is a sprig of mistletoe. The very same one she'd hung above the pub bathroom door.

"Very crafty," she murmurs.

Vanessa's watching her expectantly. Charity reaches out and adjusts the santa hat on her head, letting her palms rest against Vanessa's cheeks after. 

"Bad luck to ignore it, isn't it?" Vanessa remarks.

"Got enough of that to last me a lifetime."

Vanessa smiles, and Charity leans down to kiss her. She tastes like eggnog and christmas pudding and mince pies, all bundled into one. Charity begins to pull away but Vanessa wraps her arms around her neck, bringing her lips back down again, and Charity follows.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Sorry about the late update, that's because of a mixture of getting ill and my macbook deciding to delete everything I'd written for this fic. There shouldn't be such a gap between this and the next one.

Vanessa certainly knows how to kiss, that's for sure. She makes these pleasant little sounds when Charity kisses her way down her neck too, her hands fisting in Charity's hair to a point that's almost painful. 

"Off," Vanessa murmurs as Charity's nose nudges against the neckline of her jumper. "God, Charity, just take it all off."

She likes her name when it's Vanessa saying it. She rises again to kiss her and taste the way it sounds. But Vanessa is too impatient, she pulls away to strip herself of her jumper and vest top herself, and Charity feels her skin warming when she gets to look at her. Her hair's a mess and the Santa hat has been knocked off her head, cheeks a bright red. She can't resist kissing her, hard, so much that Vanessa sways under her touch and she has to catch her by her bare waist.

Charity feels herself becoming impatient too, desperate to get to the rest of Vanessa's skin. They stumble towards the sofa until she can push Vanessa down. Vanessa manages to get her blazer off before Charity's kissing a path down her stomach, hands fumbling with the catch of her bra. It's been a while, a long while actually, since she's done this with a woman. She might be a bit rusty at it. 

Vanessa doesn't seem to notice though, and Charity grins against her skin. Greedy hands reach out and drag her back up for a kiss, Vanessa popping the buttons of her blouse as she does, and she's just pushing the fabric off of her shoulders when the ring of Vanessa's phone makes her flinch.

They pull back enough for their eyes to meet. Vanessa swallows when Charity reaches under her, slipping the phone from her back pocket. The caller ID states it's Rhona. 

Vanessa takes the phone but Charity lets her weight fall against her, relishing the breathless way Vanessa moans when she laves her tongue against her neck. 

"Don't answer it."

"Okay," Vanessa says immediately, and Charity hears the phone clatter to the floor.

Charity lets her teeth graze against Vanessa's pulse, laughing when Vanessa tightens her legs around Charity's middle, trying to drag her impossibly closer. Vanessa's hands are warm against the bare skin of her back, peppering kisses against Charity's shoulder in response.

The phone starts ringing again and Vanessa groans, her head falling back against the arm of the sofa. Charity huffs, sitting back so that she can glare at the thing.

"Sorry," Vanessa says, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Her sternum is a rosy red and her lips are swollen; she's beautiful. "I told her I'd call her when I got home. She's probably just worried about me."

Charity rolls her eyes. "Go on then. Answer it."

Vanessa does, shuffling back so that she can curl her legs beneath her instead of around Charity. Her eyes scan the floor by them, clearly looking for something to cover herself with, and Charity offers her her own blouse. Vanessa holds it against her exposed chest while Charity sits, watching, unashamed.

The concerned voice of Rhona floats through, quiet enough that Charity can't make out the words, but can definitely tell Vanessa was right that Rhona had been worried about her. It doesn't surprise her, really. Vanessa's the kind of person other people care about - the one you wait up for that _just got home_ text; the kind you'd bring soup for when they're ill. 

Charity has never been that kind of person, but really, she's never had anyone to be that someone to her. She has a history of caring about people just as awful as her. That's probably why her kids don't care about her, either. Why Noah hasn't even bothered to send her a text.

The thought makes her throat tighten.

"I just stopped off at a friends' house," Vanessa's saying to Rhona, her eyes focused on Charity's hands. "Sorry, I should've told you. I didn't mean to make you worry."

It shouldn't hurt that Vanessa doesn't admit it's her she's with. It shouldn't be a surprise, either. But she's already upset thinking about Noah that Vanessa's words make her eyes sting with tears.

So she goes for a distraction, for she and Vanessa both, her teeth descending to catch Vanessa's earlobe as she pops the button of her jeans open. Vanessa's free hand grips her shoulder. But she doesn't stop her.

"Right. Yeah, I know, it really has been too long. Thank you for inviting me round," Vanessa says, but her voice is strained as she drags her jeans down her legs and throws them to the floor. She kisses her way back up her legs as her hands toy with the waistband of Vanessa's underwear. 

When she glances up, Vanessa's eyes are hooded with desire. Charity smirks. 

"Rhona," Vanessa says, the name breaking two on her tongue, because it's right then that Charity chooses to dig her teeth into the soft skin of her inner thigh. "Can I call you later?"

Charity can't help but laugh when she hears the suspicious tone that floats through the receiver. She hoists one of Vanessa's legs over her shoulders. The woman's next words come out as a gasp.

"I'll call you later, I promise."

She glares at Charity as she throws the phone aside.

"What are you doing? Rhona figured it out! That's so _embarrassing._ "

Charity lifts an eyebrow. "Do you want me to stop?"

Vanessa's holding herself up on her elbows, but one hand reaches out to tangle in Charity's hair, the fingers pressing against the back of her neck insistent and guiding.

"No," she answers, letting her head fall back. "Don't stop."

* * *

It's well into the evening by the time Charity finally has time to catch her breath. 

Vanessa's still gasping beside her, a hand pressed to her chest, and if Charity weren't so exhausted she'd press herself up against her body again, because in spite of all her knitted jumpers and yellow coats Vanessa is quite the seductress. Without seeming to know it, too.

The duvet is tangled at the end of the bed, tossed aside sometime after Vanessa had decided the sofa wasn't big enough for the things she'd wanted to do to Charity. Now, Charity reaches down to grab it, covering her from the chill winter air in the room. Vanessa snuggles beneath it too, and Charity struggles to keep her eyes open as she watches this woman who was a stranger just a matter of days ago, completely comfortable in the bed beside her.

Vanessa grins when she catches Charity watches her. Then she laughs. 

"Oi," Charity says, just a little put out. "Should I be offended?" 

"No, trust me, it's _definitely_ not that. It's just that I'd hoped maybe I'd get a snog at best. I didn't plan on this."

"You complaining?"

"Do I look like I'm complaining?"

"Nope," Charity says, popping the p. "Feel free to sing my praises any time soon, by the way. Even more than you did five minutes ago."

Vanessa swats at her, an embarrassed smile gracing her lips. Charity props herself up one arm so that she can kiss her, cupping her cheek with her other hand. 

"I guess I'm just not used to - I've never done something like this before," Vanessa confesses in a whisper.

Charity tenses under her touch, so she rolls away, back to her side of the bed. She's not surprised by the statement, not really, but she's not ready for Vanessa to get soppy on her. This is just a bit of fun. It'd be stupid to think that they could exist together in any other capacity than this.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I did. I just thought you should know."

Charity sits up. "I'm gonna go to the loo."

"Alright," Vanessa murmurs, and Charity doesn't have to look at her, she can hear the tears in her voice.

Charity grabs her dressing gown and ties it around her. Normally she wouldn't bother; nakedness isn't something that bothers her. She'd spent too many years as a teenager trying to escape her body and the things that were happening to it to be ashamed of it anymore. Everything feels too malleable in the room here with Vanessa though, so she double knots it before she leaves the room.

In the bathroom, Charity cleans herself up, desperate to give herself another distraction. It hardly takes her mind away from Vanessa though, because all she can think about is how the other woman had touched her. Charity has had some very good sex with more people than she cares to count but this has already made its way into her top ten. Top five, maybe. Top three.

Shit.

She splashes her face with cold water then grips the edges of the sink, catching her breath. She refuses to hide in here any longer. That's not what she does. She confronts her problems head on, like a bull in a china shop most of the time, but she hasn't run away scared from her problems since she was fourteen.

When she enters the bedroom, she's surprised to find Vanessa inside, still waiting for her. There's no evidence of tears; her eyes aren't even red. She hasn't dressed either. 

"You got a text while you were gone," she says.

It's from Debbie. There's a photo attached, of she and the kids wearing the rubbish paper hats from the crackers, grinning at the camera. Debbie's holding up a glass of wine, while Sarah and Jack have hot chocolate. 

_We've had a good day. Jack says thank you for his present. He loves it. Merry Christmas x_

Charity's chest tightens. She and Debbie may not have the best relationship, but at least her daughter's still willing to talk to her. Maybe that gives her a chance to be a better person to her grandkids than she'd ever been with her own kids. 

"Someone important?" Vanessa asks gently.

There's something about the way she says it that's too understanding. Charity hesitates, wanting to say no, but she meets Vanessa's eyes and there's no judgement there. It's still a shock to see someone look at her like that. So she climbs back into the bed, showing Vanessa the picture, and she doesn't push her away when Vanessa rests her cheek on her shoulder.

"That's my daughter, Debbie, and her kids. Jack and Sarah. They're the ones up in Scotland." 

"I remember you saying."

"Right." 

"Your daughter looks a lot like you," Vanessa says, double tapping the picture so that it zooms in on Debbie's face.

Charity wrinkles her nose. "Really? I've always thought she was more like her dad. Never really seen myself in her."

"No, it's there." 

Charity considers the photo again. She doesn't know how she feels about that.

"It must be nice to have such a big family," Vanessa murmurs.

She thinks she hears something like longing in Vanessa's voice. Charity clears her throat, tossing her phone onto the bedside table. 

"It's alright. More hassle than it's worth, really." 

"I don't think you mean that."

She doesn't, but she still finds herself shrugging Vanessa off. Though Vanessa moves away, one of her hand rests against Charity's thigh over the covers. She itches to push her off. She doesn't.

"You don't know anything about me or my family. So don't make assumptions, alright?" 

"Alright," Vanessa says softly. 

"I mean, look at you. Spent Christmas with a friend you hadn't spoke to in years, then a total stranger instead of your own bloody family. Doesn't look like you're in any position to pass judgement." 

Vanessa scowls, but fresh tears roll from her eyes anyway. She finally retracts her hand. 

"I wasn't judging you. I was trying to be helpful."

"Well, you're not. So stop trying." 

"Okay." Vanessa stares at her, sniffs, and then wipes at her tears with the back of her hand. "Maybe I should go." 

Charity crosses her arms and says nothing.

Vanessa scoffs before she turns away. None of her clothes had made it up into the room with them, only Charity's jeans, so Charity takes pity on her and chucks her the dressing gown. She takes it wordlessly.

It's only when she gets to the door that she looks back. 

"I wasn't trying to judge you, Charity. Not everyone is out to get you. And you're right, I'm not really in the position to pass judgement. I just wanted to get to know you, that's all." She gives her a sad smile. "I hope you have a brilliant day with your sons tomorrow. And I hope the new year is good to you. You're a good person and you deserve good things." 

Words tangle in her throat, but she has no idea what to say to that, so she doesn't say anything. Vanessa shakes her head and leaves, closing the door behind her. 

* * *

Vanessa's gone by the time she's finally come to her senses. Charity chucks on her jeans and grabs the first blouse she finds when she opens the wardrobe, hopping towards the front door as she pulls her boots on. The half-empty drinks are still sitting on the table and the little array of mince pies remains untouched. The TV is switched off, the bag of Vanessa's things gone, and for some reason this is the thing that almost moves her to tears.

She's still dragging a coat on when she bursts out of the door, looking up and down the street. Vanessa had had too much to drink to drive, and there's no way she'd've managed to get a cab so quickly. 

Charity half-jogs in the direction of Rhona's house, swearing under her breath. She's an idiot. Maybe Vanessa is too, for being so good to her when she doesn't deserve it. Just look at how she's managed to ruin everything already. There's a reason why she hasn't had a relationship in years.

Once she gets to Rhona's, she hesitates, her fingers curled around the knocker. What the hell is she doing? What is she going to say? _Sorry I yelled at you, please come back for some more of that amazing sex. You're the first person that's been kind to me in my whole life, by the way._

Charity growls, knocking loudly. There's movement at the windows, the curtains twitching just slightly, and she rolls her eyes.

Rhona's the one to open the door. "Charity." 

"Is she here?" 

"Who?"

"Beyoncé. Bloody Vanessa, that's who. Don't play games with me." 

Rhona inches the door closed when Charity tries to look around her, blocking the view with her body. Charity glares.

"She doesn't want to talk to you. You can't really say you're surprised." 

"Look, she's a grown up, she can tell me that herself." 

"Er, excuse me - "

"Rhona." Vanessa's voice cuts through and Charity feels her stomach flip. "It's okay. I'll talk to her." 

Rhona frowns at her, but she steps aside, making room for Vanessa. Vanessa squeezes her shoulder and they exchange a look before Vanessa wraps her scarf around her neck, stepping out into the cold air with Charity.

The words in her throat dry up once Vanessa closes the door behind her. Vanessa's staring at her expectantly, and suddenly she has no idea what it is she's doing here, or what kind of words to give someone like her. 

"Have you just come to stare at me? Because that's not much better than what Graham's doing in there." 

"Yeah, well, he's got about as much charisma as a brick wall," she mutters, surprised when Vanessa's lips twitch with a smile. "I mean really, babe, I know she's your friend so she must have some taste, but _him?_ She must be out of her mind." 

"I think she'd say the same thing about me," Vanessa replies pointedly.

Charity rolls her eyes. "Alright, yes, I get it, I'm Charity Dingle and I'm a bad person, blah blah blah. You'll hear it from everyone in this village if you choose to stick around."

"And should I? Stick around?"

She hesitates when she realises what she's just implied. Vanessa sighs. 

"Look, Charity, you and me, it was nice. It was fun! It doesn't have to mean more than that if you don't want it to. But that doesn't mean that you get to treat me like that just because you got scared." 

"I wasn't scared." 

"Then what was that little show all about?" 

"It was - I just - "

Charity feels her cheeks fill with heat, so she looks away, at the expanse of the village and all its glittering Christmas lights. Then there's cool hands cupping her cheeks, turning her back towards Vanessa, and she can't help but follow. She thinks she wants to kiss her again, but Vanessa would probably push her away if she did, making this whole thing ten times worse. Vanessa lets go when she catches her gaze.

"I just want to know things about you." 

"Why?" Charity asks. 

"Why not?"

"Look, I'm not... I'm not a good person. The more you know about me, the more you'll - people just don't stick around, alright? For good reason."

"Maybe I'm not a good person either." 

Charity laughs. "Yeah right, babe." 

"I'm serious. You don't know anything about me, do you? And, you know, it's okay if you don't want to. I'm not really - "

"I do," Charity interrupts.

Vanessa stares at her, her breath clouding in the air in front of her. Charity shifts awkwardly from foot to foot.

"I'm not very good at all this talking business," she says, shrugging. "But I _do_ want to get to know you. And maybe I - maybe I do want this to be more than a bit of fun."

Vanessa smiles, her shoulders relaxing. She's gorgeous and Charity steps forwards, emboldened when she doesn't move away. She wraps her arms around Vanessa's middle and Vanessa loops her own around Charity's shoulders.

When she kisses her, it's soft and simple. She kisses her because she wants to, not because she's desperate to feel skin so that she can stop thinking for a little while. Actually, a little part of her prefers it this way. 

"How about you ditch your mate and rip off 007," Charity suggests, grinning when Vanessa laughs. "I was thinking of going back to the pub. Stealing some of those leftovers Marlon left behind. You should join me." 

Vanessa plays with the hairs at the nape of her neck. "You're sure you're not gonna run off?"

"Just come with me," she sighs. "I'll tell you anything you want to know." 

That seems to win her over. Vanessa kisses her again, a little more insistent this time, before she slips back inside Rhona's house. Charity uses the moment to collect herself. She's still panicked, and she feels a little bit ill after being so honest, but she prefers this feeling than how she felt at the thought of not seeing Vanessa again. 

The door opens again. Rhona's regarding her warily when Vanessa steps out, coat all buttoned up and santa hat back in place. 

"Ness - "

"It's fine," Vanessa assures her. She glances back at Charity. "Right?" 

Charity nods, not trusting herself to say anything now that Rhona's watching her. Vanessa tangles her fingers with her own and together they leave, walking towards the pub.

* * *

"Favourite colour."

"Yellow. Obviously. That one's easy." 

"Mine's red, by the way. Since you didn't ask."

Vanessa sticks her tongue out and Charity resists the urge to kiss her again, speaking instead.

"First kiss."

Vanessa wrinkles her nose. "Oh, god. It was a bit gross actually. I was fourteen. His name was Ben and he was a little too eager to stick his tongue down my throat."

"Can't say I blame him, babe." 

Vanessa swats at her, but she still laughs. Charity sets the leftovers in the oven to reheat while they do this back-and-forth of getting to know each other. Vanessa's sitting on the counter, the bobble of the santa hat falling in her eyes, and Charity can't help but nudge her knees apart and step up in the space between them. 

"What about you, then?" Vanessa asks, playing with the ends of her hair.

"I was twelve. It was with Debbie's dad." 

"That's it? No embarrassing details?" 

"Well, our Cain already had a bit of practice, so it wasn't too bad. Besides, I was twelve. Don't really remember a lot about it. It was sort of overshadowed when I got pregnant at thirteen."

The words slip out without her permission. To her credit, Vanessa only hesitates for a second before she resumes twirling one of Charity's curls around her index finger. It's nice, she thinks, someone touching her simply for the affection of it, instead of trying to mark possession or drag her into their bed.

"It must've been hard, having her that young." 

Charity clears her throat and moves away. A lot of her life was hard. It still is, sometimes. She doesn't really have a clue what it is she's doing most of the time.

And the worst part is that giving Debbie up hadn't been the hardest. It's what'd come after; it'd been enduring Bails, losing his baby, and then not having the ability to speak about what she's been through. It'd been falling into bed with Cain time after time even as he beat her with words like _whore_ and sometimes his fists, too. It'd been living with the memory of Bails and the weight of his body too heavy on top of her own and the way he had turned her face away from his most of the time, so that he didn't have to see her crying. It'd been her baby boy laying dead while doctors worked on him, right before she'd made a run for it.

"Charity? Are you okay?"

Charity clears her throat, surprised to find she's sitting on the cold tiles of the floor. Vanessa's crouched beside her, the tips of her fingers pressing against her forearm.

"Sorry." She shakes her head. "I don't know what that was about."

Vanessa lowers herself to sit beside her. She opens her mouth, and Charity already knows the question she's going to ask next will be too hard to answer, so she kisses Vanessa firmly.

Vanessa squeaks against her lips, but she gives in to it for a little while. She resists Charity's attempt to make it deep, and when she pulls away, she looks worried. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Can't you just - "

She tries to kiss Vanessa again, but she dodges out of her way. Charity sets her jaw.

"We don't have to talk about whatever it is that's bothering you if you don't want to," Vanessa says, tucking Charity's curls behind her ears. She gives her a smile. "But if you want someone to listen, I'd be happy to." 

"Vanessa..." 

"I'm not going to kiss you while you're upset. I don't want to do that." 

Charity laughs, she can't help it, because the words and the feeling they bring with them is so foreign. She looks away and finds herself looking at their reflection in the oven. They don't look half bad together.

Vanessa rests her cheek against Charity's shoulder, tentatively this time, only relaxing when Charity rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around her shoulder securely. 

She studies Vanessa in the reflection and thinks, if she were ready to tell someone about Bails, this is who it would be; someone as patient and forgiving as Vanessa. Maybe she's always been ready to talk about him but no-one has ever been willing to listen. She sighs. 

"Here's one for you," she says. "What's your last name?"

Vanessa laughs. "Woodfield." 

"Merry Christmas, Vanessa Woodfield."

She grins, turning to press her smile against Charity's neck.

"Merry Christmas, Charity Dingle."


	4. Chapter 4

They set up their own Christmas feast in one of the booths. Vanessa had found crackers that hadn't been used, so now they both have those flimsy paper crowns on their heads, Vanessa giggling at the lame jokes inside. 

There's something warm growing in Charity's chest and she knows it isn't all down to the Bailey's they're drinking. She doesn't really remember the last time she had a Christmas like this; one so simple and easy. And then she feels a spike of guilt, for thinking that just because her children aren't here. She wonders if Noah's thinking that same thing because she isn't with him. If he's thought of her at all.

He probably hasn't.

"What do snowmen wear on their heads?" 

"I don't know."

"Ice caps," Vanessa reads, laughing to herself.

"Wow. That was awful, babe." 

"They're funny!" Vanessa protests. She tosses the little slip of paper with the rest. "I like puns. They're clever."

" _Are_ they? They're simple humour if you ask me." 

Vanessa pokes her with her fork. "Oi!"

Charity winks, tucking back into her meal. 

The silence between them is filled with the soft crooning of festive songs. They got on Charity's nerves before. She likes it now, with Vanessa sitting opposite her. She thinks she likes a lot of things better with Vanessa near her.

She shakes her head and the thought away. She's running away with herself. Too much too quickly - then again, isn't that how she's always done it?

"How's Noah's Christmas going?"

Her head snaps up. "You what?" 

"Well, you showed me Debbie's. And I saw you FaceTime Moses. That just leaves Noah. Is he with his dad too?"

"How'd you know his name?"

"You mentioned it earlier. After you FaceTimed Moses, I think," Vanessa explains, wrinkling her nose as she tries to recall the memory. "Noah and Moses are proper biblical names."

Charity's so flummoxed she forgets how to speak for a second. Vanessa watches her, expression kind and open, and she feels her pulse in her throat.

"It's kind of a theme in my family. An ironic one," she finds herself saying, pushing the lukewarm turkey around on her plate. "I reckon half of us would burst into flames if we step foot in a church."

Vanessa levels her with a look. "That doesn't answer my question."

"What d'you want me to say? He's a teenager. He's moody." 

"What does that have to do with anything?" 

"Look, he's not with his dad, alright? His dad offed himself when he was a kid. Don't look at me like that," she snaps, watching Vanessa's expression rumple into confusion afterwards. "Noah's better off without him. But I guess he figures he's better off without me too, since the second he heard Moses is gonna be with Ross he jumped at the chance to spend Christmas round my Uncle's." 

"Well, you had work in the morning. He probably just didn't want to be on his own."

Charity sighs, rubbing at her temples. "That's _why_ I'm working. Because all my kids buggered off elsewhere and no-one chose to spend the day with me."

" _I_ did." 

There's nothing in the way that Vanessa looks at her that's demanding. It's a simple, open truth. 

If Vanessa were anyone else, Charity would try and find the motive behind it. There's always something people are after. No-one is ever truly selfless. But with Vanessa. Well. Maybe she's just as lonely as Charity. But ten times kinder.

Vanessa reaches across the table. She hesitates for a second before resting her fingers against Charity's wrist. Two, as if she's measuring her pulse. 

The paper crown on her head is a little bit crooked now and so is the smile she gives Charity, yet her heart still thuds that little bit louder in her ears. 

"Can I be honest with you?" 

"You've not asked permission before," Charity comments, resting her chin on her hand.

"I don't exactly have the best... family. My mum and stepdad are nice enough but there's always been something strained there. My mum hated my dad a lot for leaving when I was a kid, and I guess I was the reminder of him she couldn't shake, because from then on everything between us was always ten times more difficult than it needed to be. Pile the fact I'm gay on top of that, and well," Vanessa pauses, taking a deep breath, "we see each other for her birthday and for Christmas Eve, but that's about the extent of it. Not from lack of trying on my part."

Charity flips her hand so that she can link her fingers with Vanessa's.

"What about your dad? Never heard from him again?" 

"For a few years he was in prison. He'd send me things but I never - " She stops, lips thinning. "When he got out, he stayed with me for a little while. They needed him to have a registered address. A month later he ran some con and got in trouble with the guys he was running it with, so off he went, promising he'd come back soon. I've not seen him since."

Charity isn't sure what to say. There's no defending that. Especially when she's been exactly the same. Leaving her kids behind in the name of money, even if it means spending time behind bars. That's all she's ever done. It's a repetitive cycle. She doesn't know how to be a mother and be herself at the same time.

"Last Christmas, my mum had too much to drink. She told me I've a half-sister from one of the other women my dad saw after he left my mum. She wouldn't tell me who she was or where she lives. When I bring it up when she's sober, she says it isn't true. But I _know._ I just know. And it kills me that I have a sister out there somewhere and she could be anyone. I could just pass her on the street and I wouldn't know it was her."

"Babe, I..." 

Vanessa looks up to the ceiling, laughing at her own tears. 

"You're wondering why I told you all that?" 

"Pretty much."

Vanessa slowly gathers herself, wiping at her tears gingerly with the sleeve of her jumper. Her mascara's still smudged from earlier. Charity can't help but reach out and cup her cheek in her palm, using her thumb to wipe away and errant tear.

The motion surprises herself and Vanessa. Vanessa gasps lightly and she goes still, but after her initial shock she leans into the touch and squeezes the back of Charity's hand.

"I still try. With my parents. I still hope that someday my mum will let go of her grudges. Or that my dad will change his ways. Maybe it's naïve, but I do. And if they just... if they just _tried,_ then I would forgive them. Because I love them. And I think - I think if you tried with your son, it'd be the same."

Charity doubts it. She's put Noah through so much, time and time again. She's not surprised that he doesn't want to anything to do with her anymore. He only lives with her, begrudgingly, because Joe's swanned off and left him behind. Otherwise he'd still be up at Home Farm, sharing turkey with his brother and bad mouthing her. Not entirely without reason, either.

Her chest pinches. She loves Noah. She does. And she misses him and wishes he were here. She wishes he were more present in their day-to-day lives, instead of hiding in his room playing video games or bunking off of school with friends she doesn't know the names of. Is that how he feels about her, too? Or has he already given up on her? She's too afraid to know the answer. There are very few things she runs away from, scared and overwhelmed. Motherhood is one of them.

Charity clears her throat, drawing her hand back. Their food's gone cold and she finds herself tugging the stupid paper crown off of her head, ripping it by accident. Vanessa's watching her dolefully. 

"I'm not good at it. Being a mum. You'd think I'd've gotten the hang of it by now, but it's just not..."

"That doesn't mean you can't try."

She thinks about her baby boy. The one who didn't make it. If she were a better mother, she'd visit his grave this time of year. But she doesn't even know where he's buried.

Charity shakes her head and slips from the booth. "You done?" 

Vanessa sighs, pushing her empty plate towards her. Charity takes them both and heads through to the back to shove them in the sink.

By the time she's collected herself and headed back through to the pub, Vanessa's behind the bar. She stops short, just watching her for a moment. She thinks she could get used to the sight.

As if she can sense her, Vanessa glances over her shoulder. Charity tries to walk it off, hating that she's been caught staring, but Vanessa just smiles at her. She has the two empty tumblers in her hands. 

"I figured I'd top us up while you sort pudding out."

Charity raises an eyebrow. "When did I promise pudding?"

"You said there were leftovers!"

"You thought there'd be leftovers of Christmas pud? Oh, babe, you underestimate how much of a sweet tooth this village has after a couple drinks."

Vanessa pouts. "Aw, I got excited for that as well."

"What are you talking about? This is your second dinner of the day! It's all free an' all, you cheeky mare."

"Here." Vanessa shoves the glasses at her. "You handle the drinks and I'll see if I can scrounge something up." 

"And you'll be paying for the ingredients you're using, yeah?" 

Vanessa's already moving past her, through the hallway. She stops to throw a heated look over her shoulder. 

"I think I know how to repay you," she murmurs, voice dropping low, making Charity's stomach swirl with desire. Then she frowns. "Um, where _is_ the kitchen?"

* * *

There's no Christmas pudding, and neither of them are willing to walk back to Jacob's Fold to collect the mince pies from earlier, but after some rummaging around Vanessa does manage to find the basic ingredients for a rhubarb crumble. It isn't a festive dessert at all, but Vanessa's happy to make it anyway. She gets the flour on her cheeks and in her hair and laughs louder than Charity has heard so far, but that might be due to the alcohol, which has left her cheeks permanently flushed.

Charity watches her, wondering what the hell she's getting herself into. Most people don't stick around for the _after._ Those that did have the misfortune of calling her their ex-wife. Even then, there wasn't times like this. They'd roll over and go to sleep, or go their separate ways for the day. No-one has ever made rhubarb crumble for her while half-tipsy, apparently in no rush to leave. Her chest tightens.

Vanessa looks up, eyes bright when she finds Charity watching her.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" 

"No," Charity lies, and the flour across Vanessa's cheeks stretches with her smile.

After Vanessa sets the tray in the oven, she turns towards her, mouth open like she's going to say something. Charity whispers _c'mere_ and swallows her words with a kiss because quite frankly, she's tired of pretending like she doesn't want her so much it aches.

Vanessa hums against her mouth, hands cupping Charity's face. She distantly registers that she'll probably end up with flour marks of her own too. But she leans into Vanessa's touch, pulling their bodies together using the loops of Vanessa's jeans.

"How long does it take?" 

"What?" Vanessa asks, breathless, eyes glazed over.

Charity smirks, dipping her lips to Vanessa's neck. She lets them brush against her skin when she speaks. 

"The crumble, Vanessa. How long does it take?"

"Oh. Um." Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Charity presses a light kiss against her jaw. "Thirty minutes?"

"Hm. That's a shame. Not nearly enough time for you to repay me for dessert," Charity replies, drawing away and dodging Vanessa's hands when they reach out for her.

Vanessa laughs. "You haven't even tried it yet."

"I've liked what I've tasted so far."

Vanessa's jaw drops, but her eyes sparkle with delight. Charity winks and leans back against the counter. She doesn't miss the way Vanessa's gaze trips over her body. That's good. She's still wanted, then. That hasn't faded even if Vanessa's seen her near tears over Debbie. Even now she knows what a terrible mother she is. Then again, when have her kids ever mattered to anyone she's been with? They all leave her and break off contact with her kids eventually.

"Where'd you learn how to bake, then? Proper little domestic goddess, you are. You'll make someone a good wife someday." 

Vanessa scoffs. "Yeah right. My mum taught me some basic stuff, back when she still showed an interest in me. The rest of it is just guesswork. We'll just have to see how well it comes out to see if I've actually remembered anything." 

"So it might not even come out _good?_ Looks like your debt's racking up, babe." 

"Do you take IOUs?" 

"Depends on what you plan on owing me," she murmurs, letting her fingers reach out and flirt with the neckline of Vanessa's jumper.

Before Vanessa can react, Charity grabs their empty glasses. She holds them up, quirking an eyebrow. 

"I think I have an idea of how to waste time while we wait." 

Vanessa presses a hand to her forehead. "I'm gonna end up on the floor at this rate." 

Charity ignores her, swanning back through to the bar. She pours them both another Bailey's, unsurprised the find the bottle's over halfway empty now. The tips of her fingers are tingling and everything feels lighter than normal; all her usual signs that she's happy drunk. She can't remember the last time she drank to have a good time rather than try and forget everything going on in her life.

She turns to find Vanessa walking back through the hallway. She's limping slightly. Charity considers her, holding her glass out to her.

"Your ankle playing you up?" 

"It's just the painkillers wearing off," Vanessa assures her. Her smile's strained. "It'll be fine."

"C'mon. Come with me."

She takes Vanessa's hand, just because she can, leading her through to the back room. The lights of the Christmas tree Chas had set up are still lit, their blue fading in and out rhythmically. It's empty beneath the tree now, all the presents taken over to Aaron's, but there's still more life and festivity in this one room than there had been in her whole house before Vanessa had intervened.

Vanessa takes a seat at the table as Charity rummages through the cupboards, hands clumsy as she searches for some ibuprofen. Once she finds it, she turns to see Vanessa casually observing the room around her, smiling at the varying photos of the Dingle clan in their frames.

"Is this where you live normally?" She asks, taking the painkillers from Charity, her fingers brushing more than necessary.

Charity takes a seat beside her, casting a look around the room. It's small, but it's her home. She's laughed and fought with Chas countless time in this very room. She'd woken up night after night helping her during the Grace ordeal, comforting her when things had gotten too much. So much of the life she's carving out for herself is tied to this pub. The family that lives inside of it.

"Yeah. This is me." 

"It must be hard having so many people on top of each other in small space. I think it'd drive me up the wall."

"You get used to someone yelling about hot water and fighting each other for TV time. It just becomes normal. I did jump at the chance to move into Debs' place though," she adds quickly, grinning when Vanessa laughs. 

"I don't blame you."

She doesn't tell her that somehow, The Woolpack is the best place she's ever lived. She'd always thought she wanted big and grand houses. She made sure to marry men who would give her those houses; the kind where a whole family could fit inside and not see each other for days on end. Maybe a part of her does still want that, she'd spent too long cold out on the streets not to yearn for everything and anything she had been deprived of in her life, but it's just not as important to her anymore.

She wonders when all of this changing had started up inside of her. When had she realised she wanted to be a family person? Family has always been such a complex word to her. It's something she's had to grapple with both hands. Something to forgive. Something that hurts but doesn't release its hold of her. Something that hurts her, but she doesn't let go in return.

"Hey. What's going on up there?"

Vanessa taps her index finger against Charity's temple. She jumps. When Vanessa laughs, it irritates her, and she doesn't like that feeling. She finds herself standing.

"Charity?"

"Why'd you choose me?" 

"What?" 

"I told you nobody chooses me, but _you_ did. You say you have nowhere else to go, but you were at Rhona's. She's probably told you my sordid history. And you've heard some from me." She crosses her arms across her chest. "So why me?"

"I don't know what you - " 

"What do you want? What are you expecting out of this?" She asks, gesturing between them.

"Charity." Vanessa holds out a hand. "I want you to sit down." 

Charity stubbornly stays standing. She almost glares. Vanessa's jaw sets.

"It's not exactly a secret that I find you attractive. That's why I came back." 

"But you're sticking around." 

"Because you're fun to be around. Trust me, I could do with some fun in my life. This doesn't have to be anything serious unless you want it to be, but I've spent a lot of time by myself, and I don't want to be on my own anymore," Vanessa answers. She lifts her chin. "You know, I could ask you the same question."

"What?" 

"Why come after me? You didn't have to come to Rhona's. You could've left it at sex, but you didn't. Why?" 

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes it is," she replies moodily, because she may have had a drink, but she certainly hasn't had enough to start waxing poetic nonsense about how kind and beautiful Vanessa is and how it feels like her heart's in her throat whenever she looks at her, which is stupid considering they've only known each other a handful of days and she never normally falls this quickly, she's normally the one being fallen for thanks to the tricks she has up her sleeve.

She's terrified because this feeling she has for Vanessa is authentic. That's something she's never experienced before.

Vanessa stands, shifting her weight from foot to foot uneasily, and for a second Charity panics, thinking she's going to leave. But Vanessa holds her palms up in surrender.

"I know a good ice breaker," she says.

Charity settles back into her seat and waits for Vanessa to return. When she does, she has shot glasses and tequila. Charity finds herself perking up.

"Full of surprises, aren't you?" 

Vanessa plops back down, pouring them both a shot. She stops Charity before she can reach for hers.

"We're gonna play Never Have I Ever."

"What are we, eighteen?"

"It's fun! And an easy way to learn more about each other."

"You know, if you wanted to know about my sex life you could've just asked, babe," she drawls, earning herself a glare.

"It doesn't have to be dirty. We could even make it Christmas themed," Vanessa suggests. When Charity scowls, she rolls her eyes. "Fine. Dirty version it is."

"Go on then. You start." 

Vanessa lifts her shot, pursing her lips. She stares into the amber liquid for a second.

"Never have I ever..." She meets Charity's gaze. "Believed in love at first sight." 

Vanessa does the shot, wincing at the taste. With her pulse thundering in her throat, Charity does the shot too, eyes locked with Vanessa's the whole time.

* * *

To her surprise, nothing she reveals seems to put Vanessa off. She's also more of a dark horse than she'd initially realised. She finds out that Vanessa only came out a few years ago, and that before that she mainly got by on a string of one night stands with men she didn't care much for, figuring that sex just wasn't all that it's cracked up to be. She'd perceived Vanessa as a relationship-type person, but the more they drink, the more she realises that Vanessa's not as straightforward as she seems.

The drink goes straight to her head and makes her vision swim, but it's _nice._ Vanessa's laugh is like honey. Their chairs have somehow scooted closer together and she can smell Vanessa's jasmine perfume as she pours them both another shot. Charity pitches forwards and Vanessa's already turning towards her, meeting her in a kiss, and it's a little sloppy because they're drunk but it's still _good,_ and when she pulls away she rests her forehead against Vanessa's.

 _I could get used to this,_ she thinks, watching Vanessa watching her, and for a moment she isn't scared.

Vanessa shoves her lightly, grinning, and Charity pulls away just enough to accept the next shot, listening to whatever stupid thing it is Vanessa's come up with. Her words have started to slur together but she's holding her alcohol. Charity finds she likes that about her. There's a lot of things she likes about her, she thinks.

Even her vet anecdotes are interesting. Or maybe it's just the way she tells them. The way her hands move and her voice rises with passion and her eyes crinkle at the edges as she smiles. Charity doesn't remember when they stopped swapping Never Have I Ever's and started talking more about Vanessa's life but she doesn't stop her. 

It's Vanessa who stops in the end. Mid-sentence. Charity frowns, her fingers teasing the end of one of Vanessa's curls. Vanessa stands abruptly.

"Oh my god. We forgot about the crumble."

They stumble into the kitchen. It's filled with a thin layer of smoke. Charity's eyes water as Vanessa staggers over to the oven, switching it off and pulling it open. More smoke files out, a thicker shade this time, and Vanessa coughs as she wafts it away. 

The rhubarb crumble that she pulls out is more crumble than anything. It's practically black. Charity tries to hold back her laughter, but once she spots Vanessa's over-the-top crestfallen expression, she can't help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. Soon enough, Vanessa's laughing with her.

"Maybe I shouldn't mix baking and alcohol," Vanessa says, biting her lower lip.

"What's the fun in that?"

Though the crumble is a disaster, Vanessa still squawks in protest when Charity goes to throw it in the bin. She sets her hands on her hips and glares.

"I spent ages on that!" 

"Precisely, babe. You spent _too_ long on it." 

"You can't just throw it away." 

"Oops," Charity says, letting the slab of burnt rhubarb and flour fall from the tray and into the bin. Vanessa huffs. "C'mon, babe, have another drink. That'll cheer you up." 

Vanessa pouts, but she lets Charity lead her back through to the bar anyway, leaning back against Charity as she practically pushes her through. It's just an excuse for their bodies to touch, she knows that, and she goes with it anyway.

"No more alcohol for me, I think," Vanessa says, frowning at the taps in front of her. "Which one of these is lemonade?" 

Charity nudges her out of the way. "Useless, you are." 

"That's not fair! This is your _job._ " 

She fills a glass with lemonade for Vanessa and opts out of any more alcohol for herself. It's the first time in a long time she's been able to recognise when she's at her limit. She doesn't want to ruin this bubble of happiness she's found. 

Vanessa pulls her phone from her back pocket. Charity peers at it, nosey, and sees it's almost ten o'clock. She can see the cogs turning in Vanessa's head. 

"I should probably get going. Rhona's offered me her spare room for the night and I don't want her waiting up too late for me. She's already got enough on her plate at the moment," Vanessa sighs.

"Or..." Charity murmurs, tugging her close, letting their lips brush, "you could stay at mine. I bet my bed's much warmer."

Vanessa's hand curls around the back of her neck. "Trust me, I _want_ to. But your sons are coming round tomorrow, aren't they? The timing isn't right." 

Charity tightens her grip around Vanessa, tilting her head. She hadn't even thought about the fact Noah might walk in and find her with Vanessa. That definitely wouldn't be the right way to start making amends with him. 

Still, she yearns for it, for Vanessa's lips on her skin and her body beside hers in her bed. Charity tips forward and their lips crash together clumsily. They stagger backwards and she hears Vanessa squeak, and she pulls away for long enough to take the glass from Vanessa's hand, setting it on the bar. She kisses her again, firmer this time, gripping Vanessa by the hips and steering her towards the booths.

Charity scoots onto the bench, pushing the table back, and Vanessa crawls into her lap. They kiss until she's breathless. 

"Have you ever had sex here?" Vanessa asks.

"Are you gonna be jealous if I say yes?" 

"No," Vanessa replies, shaking her head, her index finger trailing down Charity's sternum. "Just wondering if I have to start bringing disinfectant when I go out for a drink." 

It's been a long time since she's been able to laugh with someone like this. She's not sure if she's ever actually laughed during sex, actually. But she doesn't want to linger on it; she's drawing too many comparisons between what she's feeling now and what she felt in the past. What does the past matter if she's happy now?

In record time, she manages to whip Vanessa's jumper over her head, groaning at the vest top underneath. She'd forgotten about that. Vanessa starts pushing the blazer off of her shoulders, her lips descending down Charity's neck, until they meet her collarbone. She knows Vanessa's going to leave a mark. She likes it. 

"Oh!"

The haze of drunken arousal that'd surrounded her abruptly crashes down. Vanessa jumps, knocking her hip on the table as she scrambles off of Charity's lap and onto the seat with her. 

Chas stares at the them, gawping, behind the bar. 

"I didn't realise you were here. I saw the lights. Thought I'd left them on." 

Charity tugs her blazer back on, self-consciously fixing her mussed hair. Chas' gawp slowly turns into a smirk and she glares.

"What are you doing here? You're s'posed to be at Aaron's." 

"Yes but I have a baby, don't I? Not like I can stay out all night. I'm surprised we managed to stay out as long as we did. Who's your friend?" 

She and Vanessa exchange glances. There's still flour clinging to her curls and her eyes are dark with desire. Charity glances back at Chas, unsure of what to say, but Vanessa seems to have found her voice. 

"I'm Vanessa. You must be Chas." 

Chas's eyebrows disappear under her hair. "Mentioned me, has she? That's a first. You must be special." 

"I'll just, um - "

Vanessa blushes, gesturing to her coat and bag.

Charity shuffles out of the booth, holding her breath when Vanessa's body brushes against hers as she practically trips over in her haste to get to her stuff. Chas watches them both with amusement written clear over her features, not backing down even when Charity widens her eyes. 

"Don't you have a baby to go look after?" She asks pointedly and Chas rolls her eyes.

"See you tomorrow, Charity," she says, and Charity already knows Chas is going to interrogate her about this. "Maybe I'll see you around too, Vanessa?" 

"Um. Yeah. Maybe," Vanessa replies, not meeting Chas's eyes as she does up the buttons of her coat.

Chas laughs, bidding goodnight before she leaves. Vanessa shoves her Santa hat into her bag, pulling her original bobble one on instead. Charity reaches out and covers her trembling fingers, adjusting the hat on her head. 

"You don't have to go, you know," she says, but she already knows Vanessa's mind has been made up.

"Your cousin's home!"

"It's not like Chas stopped to think about me while she was making that baby. Bloody hope not, anyway."

Vanessa smiles fondly. "You just say whatever pops into your head, don't you?"

"You haven't been complaining." 

"No, I haven't," Vanessa agrees, pulling her scarf on. "Look, how about you walk me back to Rhona's? I'll even let you snog me on the doorstep." 

"I'll get my coat."

* * *

Now that it's completely dark, the lights of the village don't look half bad. Especially as she's walking through hand-in-hand with Vanessa.

She's never been one for holding hands. Not so casually, at least. There was always something she was trying to prove when it came to affection with her last partners. Something tactical. She realises she has a lot of unlearning to do when it comes to the way she views relationships. 

The walk to Rhona's feels too short, and she knows she's being clingy, but at least it feels like Vanessa is too. Vanessa slows her pace the closer they get to Rhona's and Charity hides her smile in the collar of her coat. Not like she needs to. Vanessa seems to smile on automatic when Charity looks at her. She's sure that'll end soon enough, it always does, but for now she's happy to enjoy that response.

They stand by Rhona's front door. Her mouth feels like it's filled with cotton. 

"You know, you still owe me for that crumble," she says, which is the stupidest thing she possibly could've said, but it makes Vanessa grin. 

"Oh no. What a shame," Vanessa murmurs, stepping closer. "I guess I'll just have to make up for it, won't I?"

"What are you doing for New Year's?" 

"I dunno. Probably go out with work friends for a drink. Why? You gonna save a kiss for me?" 

Charity feigns nonchalance, fiddling with the end of Vanessa's scarf.

"Might do. You know, if you happen to be in the pub, where I happen to be working, and it happens to be midnight..." 

"Yeah?"

"C'mere," she whispers, tugging her closer with her hold on her scarf.

When they kiss this time, she makes sure to make it something Vanessa will remember. A reason to come back. Vanessa moans into the kiss, open-mouthed, and Charity finds her own knees weak. She likes the way Vanessa's always equal with her. It's never a power play. Vanessa's fingers are trembling when they curl at the dip of her waist, but so are Charity's, threading through Vanessa's hair.

Vanessa's lips are swollen when they break apart, the bobble hat on her head almost pushed off and her curls a mess. Charity's throat tightens. 

"This has been my best Christmas in a long time," Vanessa tells her quietly. She kisses her again, gentle this time. "I just thought you should know."

Truth spills out of her without her permission.

"Me too, babe."

But she doesn't regret it - Vanessa makes truth easy. Especially when her eyes light up like they do now. It's worth it.

Vanessa takes a shaky breath in. She steps out of the circle of Charity's arms. Instantly her body feels colder, but she forces her hands into her coat pockets, trying to ignore the feeling. She leans in kiss Vanessa's cheek, oddly shy when she pulls away.

"I'll see you then, Charity." 

"Yeah," she whispers. "See you then." 

She knows Vanessa's watching her go. She adds a little swing to her step. When she gets to the end of the path Vanessa calls her name. She turns, her heart in her mouth.

"Call him," Vanessa says, right as the door to Rhona's open. Her friend glances between the two of them curiously. "He'll pick up." 

Vanessa steps into the house, giving her one last gentle smile before she closes the door behind her. The wind picks up a little, biting at her cheeks, but Charity stands still watching that door. Eventually she shakes her head and walks away, back home alone.

* * *

The house feels empty with just her in it. The cold breeze and the fright from Chas has done her good, sobered her up, and she's not so heavy-handed when she tidies away all of the things she and Vanessa had out. She eats one of the mince pies just to help sober herself up quicker. The sugar clings to her fingertips and she tries not to think about Vanessa, about what she would do if she were here, if she would taste that sugar with her tongue.

Charity curses herself. She's like a schoolgirl with her first crush. It's almost embarrassing.

By the time she's made sure everything's prepared for Moses's return tomorrow, including a half-drunk glass of milk and a bitten-into carrot on the side, and got herself change and in bed, it's almost eleven. She finds herself chewing on her thumbnail, an awful habit of hers, staring at Noah's name on her contacts list. 

She takes a deep breath and presses call.

Her heart's pounding as she listens to the dial tone. She's just about to resign herself to getting voicemail when her son's voice floats through. 

"Hello?" 

"Noah. Hey babe. It's me." 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong," she says, picking at errant lint on her duvet. "I just wanted to see how your Christmas went. Did you have fun? Everyone was good with you, yeah?" 

"Course they were. Why wouldn't they be?" 

Charity winces, willing herself not to rise to his bait. He's all attitude with her lately; a mixture of Joe leaving and their already fraught relationship and adolescence, all jumbled into one. It's why he so often walks out of the room when she walks into it. They either spend time together in silence or yelling at one another. She doesn't know where it was they went wrong. She just woke up one day and that's how they were.

Or maybe she hasn't been paying enough attention. Maybe, if she were better, she would've seen this coming. Found a way to stop it. She wouldn't have been relieved when he chose to spend Christmas at Wishing Well instead of at home with her. What kind of mother thinks like that?

"I missed you today," she confesses.

Noah sighs. "Have you been drinking again?" 

Her breath catches. She thinks about her own father, about how the alcohol had consumed him. He hadn't been her dad in the end, when he had kicked her out. The drink had changed him. 

She can't let that happen between them. She refuses to let Noah see her the way she saw her dad.

"New Year's resolution. I'm gonna start being more honest. Thought I'd start early," she says. She sniffs and realises she's crying. "Babe, you know Moses is coming back tomorrow, yeah? It's when I'm gonna do Christmas with him. You're coming home too, aren't you?"

There's a prolonged silence on Noah's end. She wipes at her tears with her palm.

"I was thinking we could do a proper Christmas. I'll go out in the morning and get us a turkey, they'll probably have tons left over. I can do us a proper dinner. What d'you think? You have room for a second?" 

"You can't even cook."

"Then we'll try it together. Moses can play with his presents while we figure it out. You and me. Does that sound like a good idea to you?"

"Alright," Noah agrees, but she doesn't miss the skepticism in his tone. 

It's a start.

"Okay. Good." She draws her knees up to her chest and presses her smile into them. "So I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" 

"Yeah."

She hesitates for a split second. Then she realises she's let so much vulnerability shine today, she might as well let it all out.

"I love you, Noah."

"Mum," he says.

He stops. She holds her breath. 

"Merry Christmas," she whispers.

"Merry Christmas," he returns. The silence goes on so long that she pulls her phone away from her ear to see whether he's hung up. It's still connected. "I love you too." 

The call disconnects after that. She holds the phone against her chest like she can keep his voice there.

Charity closes her eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to calm herself. It's a start, she reminds herself. She's not a good mother but she can try to be, especially if someone like Vanessa Woodfield believes in her.

She sets her alarm for the morning and places her phone on the bedside table, sliding beneath the sheets. She still remembers how Vanessa had looked in this bed with her. How she had laughed. The way she had arched beneath her touch. Someone who wanted to be at her side. Someone who might be there again someday, even after seeing the ugly parts. Someone who chose her.

Noah will come around. She has to believe it. She's spent too long thinking about everything she never had with her first baby boy that she's missed so much of Noah's life. Just let it pass her by. But she's going to be better from now on; she's going to give him a good Christmas. She'll give him the world too, if he wants. She'll give him anything.

Maybe he'll choose to be around her next Christmas. Maybe Vanessa will be there again too.

Charity smiles into her pillow and closes her eyes to sleep.


End file.
